


I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus

by missmichellebelle



Series: Purple Daisies [15]
Category: Glee
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-12-20 11:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Cookies are traditional."</p><p>Santa likes cookies. Maybe he doesn’t get tummy aches because he’s magic. Aiden wishes he was that kind of magic.</p><p>"I’m just looking out for your health. You eat too many cookies."</p><p>Santa can eat as many cookies as he wants, Dad, he’s Santa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus

“ _Daisy_." Aiden shakes his sister impatiently, glancing over his shoulder, and then shaking her again. “Daisy, wake up!" He’s whispering as loudly as he possibly can, and she groans and turns over, eyes squinting open.

"Aide? What’s wrong?" She yawns, and he huddles closer, gripping at the edge of her bed.

"Santa’s downstairs!" He says, excitedly, hardly able to contain his bouncing, and waiting for her to jump out of bed and go downstairs with him. It might be  _Santa_ , but it’s still dark down there.

"No he isn’t, Aide," Daisy groans, turning back over, and he frowns, lip trembling.

"I heard him, Dais, I promise I did, I really, really did!" Aiden insists, but his sister ignores him.

"It’s probably just Dad getting a glass of water. It’s late, Aide. Go back to sleep." She yawns and pulls her blanket up over her head, and Aiden doesn’t understand. It’s Santa! Why doesn’t Daisy want to go and see Santa?

He looks at her a second longer, plays with the cuff of his pajamas, and then hikes Lion in his arms and nods. If Daisy won’t go with him, Aiden will just go and see Santa all by himself, and Santa will give him all the presents and Daisy will get  _soap_.

Aiden sits down and slides down the stairs, stair by stair, Lion thumping along with him. It’s dark, but he can see the glow from the Christmas tree and that makes him feel better. That, and he can hear someone  _moving_.

_I hope Santa got me my bicycle. And dinosaurs. And video games. And legos._

He slides faster, excited, until his feet touch the cool wood of the floor. Almost there, almost there. He’s going to meet  _Santa!_  He can’t wait to tell Daddy in the morning.

_Daddy, last night I met Santa, and Daisy didn’t, and Santa said I can have toys whenever I want, I just have to call him, so Daddy, can I use your phone?_

Walking as quietly as he can, Aiden peeks around the corner and—Santa! Aiden smiles, smashing Lion close to his chest, feeling giddy and ready to run to him. He looks different than Aiden thought Santa looked, but it doesn’t matter— _it’s Santa_. Maybe he only gets fat after Christmas. He has to bring presents to  _everyone_ , and that means a lot of cookies. If Aiden eats too many cookies, his tummy hurts, and Santa doesn’t have any daddies with him to rub his back until it feels better. Poor Santa.

Maybe Dad was right. Maybe next year they should give him fruit or vegetables.

"Well,  _Santa_ , I’d say you delivered a pretty good haul this year."

Aiden’s eyes widen.  _Dad?_

"Well, I couldn’t have done it without you, Mr. Anderson-Hummel," Santa says, happily. Aiden gasps into Lion’s mane— _Dad knows Santa_. Santa picks up a cookie—chocolate chip,  _everybody_  likes chocolate chip—and bites into it.

"You and your cookies," Dad mutters, smiling and shaking his head, but Santa just continues to eat the cookies.

"And to think you tried to get the kids to leave an apple." Santa talks with his mouth full! How come Dad and Daddy always tell him not to, but  _Santa_  can? That’s not fair! “Cookies are traditional."

Santa likes cookies. Maybe he doesn’t get tummy aches because he’s  _magic_. Aiden wishes he was that kind of magic.

"I’m just looking out for your health. You eat too many cookies."

 _Santa can eat as many cookies as he wants, Dad, he’s_ ** _Santa_**.

"I don’t mind sharing." Santa splits a cookie in half, but Dad shakes his head. No fair. Aiden wants to share a cookie with Santa.

"Well, it’s been fun, but I know for a fact that there will be two children jumping on me in a few hours. I’m going to sleep."

Aiden’s eyes widen—Dad will see him! But Santa stops him, grabbing his arm and smiling, and then pointing up.

"Really? Mistletoe?"

"Come now, Mr. Anderson-Hummel. It’s tradition."

"You and tradition." Dad makes a funny noise, the kind he makes when Daddy says they should have ice cream for breakfast, and then—Aiden’s eyes widen as his dad leans in kisses Santa on the cheek.

His dad just  _kissed Santa!_

“ _Dad_ ," Aiden whispers, and then shoves Lion’s head against his mouth, because he doesn’t want Dad and Santa to hear him. Dad always kisses Daddy on his cheeks, or Aiden, or Daisy, or Aunt Rachel. Maybe Santa gets cheek kisses too.

But Dad will be heading towards the stairs soon, and he’ll get mad if he sees Aiden out of bed. He pouts into Lion’s fur—now he can’t meet Santa. Now Daisy will  _never_  believe him.

But Santa did bring presents, and even if Aiden can’t have them now, soon it won’t be dark and it will be Christmas and Aiden will get presents then. He knows. He can see all the presents.

He thumps back up the stairs, back to his bedroom, and wonders if Santa has a favorite cookie and if he got the green dinosaur and not the orange one. Aiden really wants the green one.


End file.
